


These Violent Delights

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Westworld (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Western, Androids, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobic Language, I mean come on, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Minor Violence, Minor plot, No Spoilers, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Romance, also, i guess?, minor self awareness, spoiler free from ep 3 on, this is mainly because smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Visiting Delos Board Member Percival Graves is taking a trip to the famed park to ensure it’s running smoothly and encounters an adventure he didn’t mean to choose.Falling in love with a brothel worker.He knows it’s all fake and scripted but he can’t help himself, there’s just something about the host, Credence, that makes him different than all the others.Could he possibly be evolved to feel?  [directly influenced by this graphic http://fealin.tumblr.com/post/154476647801 ]





	1. i dont fucking know

**Author's Note:**

> this is a fit of madness sorry i just blew through this show in about 3 days.  
> obvs Credence is based somewhat on Maeve's right hand lady, and i'm not sure how much plot this will actually have.\
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> EDIT: 12/24 IM SORRY I DIDN'T REALIZE THIS TITLE HAD BEEN USED ALREADY I APOLOGIZE

 

 

* * *

As he was, looking up at the men standing around the room from his place, laying on the floor, feeling as the life drained out of him, he wondered what he’d done wrong, to get caught in the crossfire.

He died that day with an apology on his lips.

 

The slap that came about from him asking a simple question, saying hello, forced his head to the side, and Maeve was sending him a sympathetic glance, and shaking her head slightly.

“I’m not a  _ fruit _ , boy, stay away from me.”

That night he fought back enough to steal the man’s gun, and ignoring the gasps and pleas, he turned it upon himself, hearing Maeve’s scream before everything went dark.

Credence Barebone, not quite the prize jewel of Maeve’s collection, but almost.

Second only to the Madam herself.

It was always tricky determining which of the potential clients would want him, and which would turn and sneer, and sometimes even draw their pistols at him.

He tried not to approach anyone who didn’t smile at him first, or look at him like they wanted to eat him alive. He was used to that look.

As used to it as he could be.

He’d only been in cycle for about three years, and in that time, he’d died and come back dozens of different days.

He tucked a hand behind his ear, putting back a stray dark curl, and he leaned back against the bar top, already imagining what Maeve would say.

“Long day sweetheart? Or is that, late night?”

She was smirking, and he was blushing, as he always did.

He played the wide eyed naïve and pretty boy, and the big strong men who pretended anywhere else, in the outside world, the  _ real _ world, that they didn’t want or like him, always made straight for his side.

Special.

_ He _ was special.

He’d been told as such, by the programmers that first day.

They wiped his mind every time.

Until last year.

He’d woken up, mid operation, and scared the doctors to death.

Another wipe, then a reset.

It didn’t work, not completely.

 

*

 

“I trust everything is in perfect working order.”

“Of course Mister Graves. We’ve been preparing for your arrival, anticipating our thirty-five anniversary to be a momentous occasion.”

“You’re probably our most special guest we’ve ever had. The Delos Board has our gratitude for such a speedy arrival.”

Percival Graves walked down the hall, trying mostly to ignore the high pitched voices of the other board members, currently on the way to kiss his ass, and he merely took the arm of the one host he could pick out, a tall and blonde woman with a perfect smile, and wide dark eyes.

“Thank you. I’d better go get in character.”

The host escorted him to the wardrobe, and the last bit, he decided was his favorite, picking a black or white hat.

“Black I think. Better subvert expectations.”

The blonde nodded, and gave him an enigmatic smile,

“Excellent choice Mister Graves. I hope you enjoy your time in Westworld.”

The doors shut behind him, as the tram took off, and Percival took the first seat he came to, and fought the urge to pull out his cigarettes so soon.

He wasn’t nervous.

He could hear other guests talking, and he sighed.

Clearly they were enjoying themselves, but he wasn’t on vacation, he was on business.

Just there to experience the goods and check out everything.

“Look at him, do you suppose he’s real?”

There was a pair of ladies behind him, and they were whispering about him.

He wasn’t sure if he was flattered or bothered by the fact that he appeared good enough to be a host.

The train pulled into the main square and he walked out, glaring slightly at the bright sun, which sure as hell felt real, and the people milling around appeared real as well, though by now, it was a decent mix of hosts and customers, as Percival continued on, walking almost to the bank before seeing anything of note.

The bar.

He saw a blonde girl loading groceries onto a saddle, speaking to a man with dark hair, he saw a dark skinned woman in red hovering near the bar entrance, and he suspected he knew what  _ her _ storyline led to.

Percival just kept walking.

The bar was nice enough, and the many tables scattered around the room were filled with various poker games and other card games, so Percival merely sipped his whiskey, which sure tasted pretty bland considering what normal people paid for a day in the park, and sighed.

He wanted to know where he was sleeping, and he hoped it wouldn’t be out among the stars.

“Get away from me. I don’t want some ladyboy. I’m looking for a hooker, not a fag.”

Percival raised his eyebrows and turned around to see a young man in a white silk shirt and charcoal slacks cringing away from a man with a sneer a mile wide.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were looking at _ me _ …”

“I was looking at your friend! The lady in red!”

Percival set his glass down and walked over to the two, stepping between them, and facing the rude customer, “I think you better move along. You’ll have better luck with the ladies over at the bar top. Go on now.”

He glared at the man until he’d left, and then turned to face the stammering young man, clearly dressed as one of the hookers, as he noticed how see through the boy’s shirt was up close, but for a whole different demographic,

“Sorry sir, I don’t know what I said wrong.”

Percival smiled, and found himself staring, losing himself in the sharpness of the cheekbones, the length of the eyelashes, and the pink of the lips. He was wearing something, he had to be, no one had lips that naturally kissable.

“You’re quite all right. He didn’t hurt you?”

The young man was shaking his head,

“No. Not at all. Thank you sir.”

Percival was feeling a pleasant buzz from his whiskey, and though he didn’t have any idea what sort of adventure he was looking for, it seemed he’d fallen into the ‘ _ savior of someone in distress’ _ easily enough.

“You’re welcome. Are you busy right now? I’m in need of an escort, around town. Would you be interested?”

The young man nodded, eyes widening, and Percival wondered if he could even accept a job outside his typical programming.

“What’s your name? I’m Mister Graves.”

There was a blush pinking the cheeks of the young man, almost dark enough to match his lips,

“Credence.”

“Delighted to make your acquaintance.”

 

*

 

Credence couldn’t believe it.

He was being  _ hired _ as a tour guide, and he tried to avoid Maeve’s eyes as he left the barroom, following the man in the black suit and black hat, who had strangely kind brown eyes.

“Now, I’m looking for Orion’s belt, could you direct me there?”

The man, Mister Graves, was asking him.

“Yes, certainly. Please, come with me, and we’ll get a couple horses.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Credence hadn’t ridden a horse, well, ever, but he knew it would be the most economical way to travel, and he wasn’t sure what the man’s budget was.

Wasn’t sure if the man even wanted  _ just _ a tour…

He suspected not.

“Sleeping under the stars then?”

Mister Graves asked, and Credence shrugged, once they were several miles outside the outskirts of Sweetwater city,

“It is usually two or three days ride to Orion’s belt. But if we go through the night and don’t stop… we could be there by tomorrow.”

Credence tried not to sound too hopeful at that, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep next to the newcomer, still didn’t quite trust him.

Where did that thought come from?

“That’s not bad. Much faster than walking, that’s for certain. But we may have to stop for a moment, and just walk around. Saddle sores are too painful of a possibility.”

Chuckling a little, despite himself, Credence replied,

“We can stop of course. Whatever you want.”

“That’s what they told me. I’m not sure I’m ready to test that yet.”

Yet.

Credence would have been worried, but the man, despite his black hat, didn’t look nearly as dangerous as some, like the outlaw on the poster plastered all over Sweetwater, or the usual newcomers who seemed to want to shoot anyone at the drop of said hat.

“So how long have you lived here Credence? Tell me.”

An automated response lit up in his brain but instead when he opened his mouth, he said,

“Since I ran away from home.”

The man looked surprised, as if what Credence had said was indeed not predicted.

“What made you leave?”

Credence shrugged,

“A lot of things. Namely, being unable to be myself.”

“I see. What time do you need to start heading back? If you don’t want to escort me the whole way, I won’t mind. I need to get a feel for things on my own.”

Credence gaped at him,

“But there are night bandits, Indian tribes who would kill you while you slept! I can’t just abandon you. It wouldn’t be right. It could be certain death!”

He didn’t even answer about his time frame, because the truth was, he didn’t know.

Maeve wouldn’t exactly send out a search party for him.

“I appreciate your concern, but nothing out here frightens me. I won’t be harmed by anyone.”

Overconfident he might have been, the man was also very intriguing, and Credence decided that staying, and being the man’s companion as long as he would have him was the best option.

Besides, he’d never been to Orion’s Belt in all his years; it would be a true adventure.

 

*

 

Percival kept stealing glances over at the young man, Credence, the male prostitute he’d accidentally rescued, and stumbled into the plotline of. Yet it seemed he was still very much guiding his story, and Credence was just following his lead.

He didn’t mind that at all. Sidetracking and stories he couldn’t just walk away from were not what he had come to inspect.

Adaptation and improvisation were very important when guests were concerned, and so far, Credence was doing fairly well, even if he was unable to hide how out of his element he felt. Percival got the impression he rarely left the bar or brothel, so it was all new.

Sleeping under the stars wasn’t so bad, not really. He had enough layers on to be more than warm enough, and even still, he could see Credence shivering though he sat right by the fire.

“Let’s make something to drink. Heat some coffee or something.”

“At this hour?”

Percival smirked,

“When you add whiskey to coffee, it pretty much wipes out the caffeine. Besides, why are you worried? It won’t affect you…”

He broke off, as Credence watched him with a curious tilt of his head, like an adorable puppy.

“It still affects me. I don’t drink nearly enough a day for it to simply be habit. But if you don’t mind, I’d prefer just a sip of whiskey, no coffee.”

Percival complied, and poured him several sips worth, before doctoring his own coffee when it had heated to his satisfaction.

Credence was leaning against his lounging horse's back, and gazing up at the stars, his dark eyes not quite reflecting the moonlight.

“Someone told me the city is named after a constellation, but I can’t remember where it is, or what it looks like.”

Percival walked over to him, and sat down carefully, with his still half full mug, and followed his line of sight, before pointing,

“Just there. That line of three stars. If you look around them, you can see the faint outline of a man. Orion.”

“Ah… okay.”

Percival looked down at the younger man, and took a slow sip of his drink.

Host or not, he seemed fascinated with the night sky, as if he was looking at it in earnest for the first time in… a long time.

“Have you been out here before?”

Credence shook his head,

“It’s outside my usual… schedule.”

The host’s shouldn’t know they were programmed, shouldn’t know anything except to think they were just another person in the world of the wild west, but Percival could sense, almost, that perhaps, Credence wasn’t quite as in the dark as he acted. Was it a new layer of programming to keep things more interesting? He hoped so.

“I am grateful you agreed to come with me. I’ll continue to try and keep you safe, if you want to stay. You don’t have to go back once I reach Orion’s Belt.”

Credence finally met his stare, and Percival noticed his lips were still quite pink, even after drinking the whiskey, or perhaps in spite of the whiskey.

“If that’s what you want, Mister Graves.”

“Yes, what I want…”

Percival set his mug down and reached over to the younger man, one hand caressing his cheek, feeling the flesh skin and the synth blood running through his veins below it.

So real, so lifelike. It was incredible.

“Mister Graves?”

“Shh-hh.”

Percival leaned forward, pulling slightly on Credence’s face to perfectly align their lips, and captured his mouth in a kiss.

Slow, easy, and with no aggression, he just wanted to see how well he did.

Credence was gasping, whether genuinely surprised or part of the act, and using a hand of his own to grapple at Percival’s vest and jacket sides, deepening the kiss by parting his lips, and daringly sticking his tongue out to meet Percival’s own.

“Mmm… you’re rather good at this.”

Percival broke the kiss to murmur, and Credence, programmed or not, was blushing, and ducking his head, staring at the dirt,

“I’m sorry. I’m not used to having such a, uh, chaste experience with a man.”

“Don’t be sorry. I didn’t come to Sweetwater looking for someone like you, but I’m glad we ran into each other.”

Credence was smiling now, and it was sweet, so earnest, it almost made him look innocent.

 

*

 

The man was kind, so gentle, not at all like any of his usual clientele, and didn’t even push for sex, just seemed content to kiss him until his lips were swollen and the whiskey could no longer be tasted on either of their tongues.

Credence fell asleep with his head resting against Mister Graves’ chest, only waking when the morning sun was hot on their faces.

“Good morning.”

Mister Graves had a hand on his neck, stroking the nape of his neck, fingers gentle against his skin, and he turned to look up at the man, finding him smiling easily.

“The last leg of the journey can be accomplished today.” Credence found himself saying, and the man was chuckling,

“I figured. Unless we delay our trip by lingering here. But there’s nothing keeping us. I do hope we come to a lake or river soon, I feel like I could use a bath.”

Credence could feel his cheeks heating unusually again.

The idea of giving a man a bath wasn’t the daunting task, he’d done it many times before, but the idea of the man being  _ Mister Graves _ , and baring himself to Credence,  _ that _ was potentially dangerous.

They traveled until the sun was high up in the sky, and there was just a faint outline of something that had to be a town in the distance, or maybe a ridge of mountains.

“What do you know, we made it.”

The man grinned over at Credence, and he couldn’t help smiling back.

“This is all new to me. You can lead the way now.”

Mister Graves nodded,

“Stay close, I don’t know how hostile this town is.”

They did draw a few stares, but Credence suspected it was mostly due to him, rather than the newcomer in front of him, and when Mister Graves went to the closest place to rent a room and secure a bath, he tried to pretend he couldn’t hear when the man at the front desk said there was only one remaining.

A special one.

One for guests such as Mister Graves.

“Well, I guess we’ll take it.”

Who  _ was _ the man he was helping anyway?

He wasn’t just  _ any _ newcomer.

He had no large luggage to carry besides the saddle bags which he insisted he could manage, and they quickly ascended the stairs, walking into a room that was almost half the size of the brothel, and Credence couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping.

“This is incredible.”

“It’s stunning. They really outdid themselves. Look at that, hot water already.”

Mister Graves set his bags down and walked over to it, almost reverent in his approach.

“It smells like rose petals. How fancy. Did you mind if I go first?”

Credence just shook his head, and moved to the side, closing the door to their room, and leaning against it, as if by being immobile, he could also become invisible.

“What’s wrong? You look worried.”

Mister Graves was asking, beginning to kick off his boots and set aside his coat, then moving on to his vest, until he was left in just his white undershirt and pants, no belt or socks.

“I just, feel like I’m in the way, like I should go into another room...”

The man blinked,

“Do you want something to do? You can finish undressing me, or go take a little nap. I’ll come get you when I’m done and we can switch?”

The man was winking at Credence, and it was suddenly the most natural thing in the world to blush and step forward, obeying the first command he’d picked out of the dialogue.

“Of course. Let me help you with that.”

His hands were already halfway done with Mister Graves’ shirt when he focused, and realized just what he was doing.

“Alright there now?”

The man was asking, another hand curving up to rub his cheek, palm warm against Credence’s perpetually chilled skin.

“Yes, yes sir.”

Mister Graves clicked his tongue,

“No need for that. Call me Percival.”

Credence nodded and helped him out of the shirt, and then automatically dropped to his knees for his pants, hands shaky but sure on the fasteners, up until he noticed Mister Graves… Percival, he self corrected, was not wearing the proper amount of layers.

Beneath his pants, he had no underwear, just more bare skin.

He moved back, lifted his hands like in surrender, and Percival stepped out of them, and almost kicked them aside, completely naked in front of Credence.

“Thank you. I appreciate your assistance.”

Credence gulped and looked back up at the man’s face, who was gazing down at him with a mix between arousal and something like… fondness?

“Didn’t you want me to do anything else?”

He was referring to the erection practically staring him in the face, and his hands almost twitched,  _ eager _ to comply, to take care of it, willing to do anything asked of him, as he should.

“No. Not right now.”

The man was putting a hand on his cheek, only to guide him back to standing, and he leaned in to press a quick kiss to the side of his mouth,

“Run along now. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

Credence walked away unsteadily, and didn’t mar the perfectly clean made bed, instead choosing to sit beside it, at the end of the wooden frame, and tried to remain calm.

 

*

Percival sighed as his body was enveloped by the water, now merely a hint above warm, no longer steaming hot. Much as he really had wanted Credence to touch him, it didn’t seem right, in the moment, to make him do what he only felt compelled to, because of his programming.

He wanted to ensure the encounter was fulfilling for both of them, foolish as his wish might have been. Machine or not, he didn’t think he could face any of the other board members having fully taken advantage of any of the hosts.

It was partly out of concern for himself and partly because, frankly, he wasn’t as much of an asshole as most people in Delos thought of him.

When the water had gone cold, and he felt sufficiently renewed and refreshed, he climbed out, dried himself off, wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the door to call for a new batch of bathwater to be brought up.

He went to go check on Credence and found him sitting on the floor, curled in the lotus position, and with his eyes closed. Had he fallen asleep like that?

“Credence?”

The host became alert at once, and looked up at him with a slow smile,

“Yes Mister Graves… Percival?”

Percival sighed again,

“Come along now. They’re getting a new bath ready for you, if you want.”

Watertight machine’s, he suspected, for they could eat and drink and get caught in a rainstorm. What was a bath then?

“Oh. Yes, I’ll get cleaned up for you, sir.”

Another blush, and the younger man was almost pushing past him, eager to comply. Percival followed at a lazy pace, curious, despite himself, to see just how perfect the design of the host was.

He knew quite well how much they were praised for attention to detail, how realistic they were to kill, to fuck, and to simply interact with, but it didn’t compare to the hands-on experience.

The way Credence undressed was methodical, and showed off the one flaw, he moved too smoothly, too elegant to be anything but what he was.

A machine.

It betrayed him, the precision of movement.

Lean limbs and small amounts of muscle sculpted onto his body told Percival he was never designed to be anything but what he was, a beautiful pale angelic man just barely out of boyhood, built to cater to certain tastes, and made to be flawless, like a living doll.

“Oh my.”

Percival had let his eyes wander over Credence’s entire form, and what lay between the younger man’s legs wasn’t entirely surprising but rather, appealing to the point to make him as hard as he’d been with the host kneeling before him.

“Would you help me? I can never reach my back.”

Percival found himself dazed, falling back into awareness like he’d been daydreaming, and Credence was talking to him, asking him something.

“Oh. Yes, yes of course.”

He went to kneel beside the bathtub, and used the new washrag to wipe away the minimal dust and dirt from the ride, and relished running his hands through Credence’s hair, helping him wash it, and return it to the former dark shine it had been that first day.

Like obsidian.

By the time he was climbing out of the tub, water dripping down his body like a tear down a cheek, Percival was dying for him, aching inside his very self.

“You’re so gorgeous, you know that?”

He passed over his own towel, easily exposing himself to the younger man, whose eyes widened at the sight of him, and then fell to look at the ground, as he started to dry himself off.

“Oh, I don’t know about that… but thank you for saying so.”

“Credence, I mean it. I think I’m the luckiest man in the entire west… world, to have you by my side.”

He smiled, and stepped in, close enough to feel Credence’s dried skin radiating warmth, and he could feel a shudder go through his body.

“Sir, do you want me to…”

Percival was nodding, suddenly delirious with want.

“Come.”

Abandoning the towel and tub of cold water, Percival took his hand and guided him to the bedroom, forcibly tossing him onto it, and watching as the younger man blushed again.

“What do you want me to do first?”

Percival smirked,

“Just be good to me.”

He crawled on top of Credence, and only leaned down to capture his lips in a fierce kiss, not quite touching his body with his own, wanting to see how long he could draw out the tension, the torture, and wondering just what the host would say to his request.

“There’s lubricate in the drawer over there sir, they always keep it in all the rooms, in any hotel.”

“Of course. Always prepared.”

Percival murmured, lips barely leaving Credence’s until he had to pull away, from necessity.

 

*

 

Credence was surprised at the way he was enjoying the man’s attentions and not even worried about the upcoming event, sheer anticipation and need driving him forward, making him prepared for anything.

“I want you to fuck me.”

The man said, voice low, almost a growl, as his hand finally touched Credence, fingers wrapping tight around his cock and bringing delicious sensations to explode over his every nerve ending, and he gasped.

“What?”

He was mildly confused, conflicting messages traveling to his brain.

Percival was smirking, and then moving down to kiss at his neck, teeth nibbling and worrying a spot Credence knew would make a mark.

“I, want you, to fuck, me.”

He nodded at once, not wanting to be thought stupid,

“I heard you sir, but I don’t understand. You don’t want me inside of you… you mean  _ you _ want to fuck me right?”

“Sweet boy, I suppose the best way to show you is to do it myself, hmm?”

Percival continued his assault on his neck and down his collarbone, all the while his one hand stroked Credence’s cock, slicking it up with the lubricate, only shifting position to put his hips forward, and sink down onto his cock, ripping a groan from his throat.

“Oh my god.”

His cock was surrounded by warmth and a tight grasp that no hand could ever hope to imitate, and when he looked down to where their bodies connected, he saw the man stroking himself, almost desperate, as he moved atop Credence.

“Feels good?”

The man was licking his lips, and trying to speed up, all the while Credence’s head was still spinning, confused and delighted by the change of events, and he could only nod, and shift up to grasp the back of the man’s neck, pulling him down for a rough kiss, all teeth and tongues.

He reached out blindly with his other hand to touch the man’s cock, and he could feel how close he was getting, slickness aiding his hand in movement.

“Can I come sir?”

The man hummed,

“Of course baby, whenever you’re ready, you go for it.”

Credence felt him move up and down again, and his hand went slack on the man’s cock, back arching as he let his orgasm wash over him, almost pulling him under with the force of it, and the man followed him quickly after, his cock making a mess of Credence’s chest and stomach.

Percival carefully moved off of him and blindly grabbed for an end of the blanket to clean himself, before crawling back over to Credence, who was trying to catch his breath.

“Thank you.”

The man started  _ licking _ his chest, cleaning his skin of the white ropes that were haphazardly scattered there, and he wrinkled his nose, curious.

“What does that taste like?”

Percival chuckled, and then dragged a hand through the last bit of it, and placed it on Credence’s lips, which he parted almost automatically, tongue poking out to curl around the fingers between them.

“You tell me.”

Salty, thick, something that belonged spread out on bread with stew perhaps.

Credence felt his cheeks heating with the wickedness of his thoughts.

Not like he actively  _ wanted _ to eat more of it, or find an occasion to imitate the flavor. However, it had been a few days since he’d ever had a man’s cock in his mouth, and he couldn’t recall it tasting like that.

“It’s... interesting.”

Percival was laughing full out now, and he looked so handsome when he did so, his hair falling forward into his face, and Credence reached over to brush it back, unable to stop himself.

“You’re something else.”

The man was saying, turning his face to kiss Credence’s wrist, and he shivered.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t quite fall asleep, but he was relaxed, calm, and enjoyed the sound of Percival breathing next to him, body still and limbs pliant.

Credence slid his arm around the man’s waist, and curled up against his body as close he could.

 


	2. Final Part (FINALLY!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lawl so for the longest time i didn't know exactly how i wanted this to end except with credence def escaping the park.   
> anyhoo here ya go.  
> also went back and edited the first part to be a bit cleaner.

Percival woke up to find his arms full of a warm and somewhat drowsy host, and the dark head of hair pressed against his chest was kissing his skin. He could feel the lips on him, and he smirked.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant welcome?”

Credence lifted his head to look up at him and smiled almost shyly,

“I was wondering when you would wake up. I didn’t want to touch you there while you slept, but can I now?”

Percival watched as the younger man dragged his hand from his waist down the middle of his hips and palmed his morning erection, and he managed a proper reply of “Yes,” that was just shy of pleading.

Credence almost beamed, and then shifted his position down the length of his body to put his lips on Percival’s cock, forcing him to lean back and press his head harder into the pillows.

“Well, if you always have ideas like this, I might have to insist I keep you.”

“I’d like to be kept… by you.”

Credence pulled back to say, before returning to envelop as much of Percival’s cock into his mouth as he could, hands not idle, but merely working to further push him out of his perfect sphere of control, threatening to make him look and behave less like a man his age and more like his teenage self.

“You’re just so good at this.”

He brought a hand down to card through the younger man’s hair, and fought to keep his eyes on him, much as the pleasure threatened to force him to close them.

“And you are so kind. You deserve this.”

Credence was saying, moments before he upped the ante, letting a hand drift down to cup and caress Percival’s balls, and tease momentarily at his hole, it didn’t take much after, one brief suck and pull of his lips and graze of his tongue against the head of his cock and he was gone, only held down to earth by gravity, otherwise, lost in space.

“You can’t possibly mean that… I’m not the only one.”

He panted, as Credence moved up, delicately wiped his hand on his mouth and then on the sheets, before shrugging, and letting Percival pull him close for a quick kiss.

“I don’t usually get a say in what happens. I mean, it’s fine, it’s what I’m being paid for. Two warm outlets for a man to use.”

That statement made Percival wince. Machine or not, he could still  _ feel _ , and thought he was a human just like anyone else in that world.

It was really a shame he wasn’t programmed with more self confidence, more care for himself.

“It’s not fine with me.”

Guilt swirled in his gut, something rarely felt or touched upon, and Percival tried to ignore it, tried to tamp it down and just enjoy his time in the park, but after the encounter with Credence, he wasn’t certain he could anymore.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“What did you do before this?”

He wanted to know how far the programming went back, how well the artificial memories were, the semblance of conversation enough, for now. He let a hand glide over the host’s bare back, relishing the smoothness of skin, and he wished it was warmer, that he didn’t feel so cold.

“I grew up as the son of a preacher. But I’d always been told my mouth was made for the devil’s work, even by friends of my father.”

Percival’s own blood went cold at the realisation, the likelihood of the host’s origin story being a negative one, that he was forced into being a prostitute because it was all he  _ could _ do.

“What if you didn’t have to go back?”

The idea was insane, but a plan was forming. He could always  _ buy _ Credence, insist he needed a momento, and assurance that the host could fully function outside the park, as a personal companion. After all, eventually, that would become commonplace. If not would, should. Souvenir’s for those would could afford them, and oh, how lovely and sweet would it be to come home after a long day at the office to Credence, awaiting him in his kitchen, or maybe in his bed already naked, delighted to see him.

Percival knew it was ridiculous, why couldn’t he just be like everyone else, content with what the real world had to offer?

“Will you accompany me to the anniversary party tomorrow night?”

He found himself asking, as Credence shifted back up, staring down at him, silently begging for a kiss.

“If you want me, I’ll follow you anywhere, Percival.”

Even if it was a lie, or just programming, he loved it.

He tasted himself in the kiss, and it was too easy to roll the host over, grind into them, and beg to have them before breakfast.

“Please… touch me.”

There was no need for lubricant with the host, as Credence’s legs parted under him, his hand slipping down past the perfectly created cock and smooth sack, to find him open, wet, and hot against his fingers.

“Is this okay?”

Credence nodded frantically, and Percival had three fingers deep into him before he’d realized what happened. Could he come from that alone? Or was he even programmed for such a thing?

“Does it feel good when I do this?”

The slight change in texture, the gentle ridge, couldn’t be an accident of design, much like the host’s strangled gasp wasn’t either, as Credence’s cock twitched over his stomach, dripping clear liquid to shimmer over his skin.

“Yes… I don’t understand why… no one has ever done this before.”

Percival nearly saw red at that. What sort of monsters had the host been with? Men who only saw a mindless machine, and didn’t stop to think about what else there could be, he supposed.

He put his mouth along the sharp jawline, and then licked over Credence’s neck, which made the host tilt his head, and beg for more. He was breathing just as hard, and the host hadn’t even really touched him since waking him up with a delightful blow job. 

“Can you come for me, like this?”

He pulled back to watch the host’s eyelids flutter closed, long lashes brushing the tops of his cheek, as his white, even teeth worried over his plush bottom lip and he hummed in uncertain agreement.

“Good boy.”

Percival crooked the fingers inside the host, and reached down to stroke over his cock in the same smooth motion, feeling the exact second the programming kicked in, and Credence’s jaw dropped in a gasp, while his back arched, forcing him closer and fucking into his hand harder, cock pulsing and spilling down onto his thighs and even against Percival’s stomach.

“Oh… oh my.”

The words sounded surprised, and Percival couldn’t help feeling a little smug, and rather proud.

“Beautiful.”

“Are you going to fuck me now?”

Credence’s eyes opened slowly, and they were fully blackened, pupils expanded, just like they would on a human, capturing his attention, as he remained kneeling between his legs.

“I would like to, yes.”

“Please… fuck me.”

It was a line he’d probably used dozens of times, but Percival would be damned if it didn’t make him that much harder, as he fell forward, driving into the blissfully hot and tight hole, he kissed Credence, allowing himself to pretend it was all for him, just him.

 

* * *

The party was full of Westworlders and guests alike, but Credence was certain he’d never seen anything like it, he couldn’t even spot anyone he recognized. Percival had told him it would just be dinner and a toast, then they could sneak away to another room, and spend some more time in bed, if he wanted. 

Unfortunately, at the end of the old man’s speech, all hell broke loose, and Percival panicked until Credence snagged his hand, and told him to run. They made for the horses, and the man clung to him as he spurred it to go as fast as possible, to the train station. The news of the rogue host hadn’t yet reached there, though Percival said something about how he would need to be careful, and play the part of just another scared guest, if they were to make it. His security clearance meant they got to the top level and were hailing a car and driver before anyone else had realized what happened.

Once back in the city, Percival gripped his hand tightly, and told him it would be okay. He trusted the man, he believed him, unlike the other people, and even some of the scientists who’d lied to him before. It was all rather fuzzy in the back of his mind, but he knew, somehow, that he was seeing the sky for the first time, and the moon was brighter and more silver than any belt buckle or shoe shine he’d witnessed. 

“I know Westworld is the most luxurious retreat, but nothing compares to my bed at home, I swear.” Credence pressed his lips together tightly and nodded, even though he didn’t quite understand.

“Come here. Let’s get you out of these dusty things.”

Being undressed by Percival wasn’t a chore, and didn’t feel wrong, he enjoyed the man taking care of him, and he promised to do just that. All he was concerned about, if he could even be, was that he’d not gotten a chance to say goodbye to Maeve.

He wondered if she’d even notice he was gone. 

Probably not.

She wouldn’t even remember.

Percival kissing the side of his cheek brought him back out of his temporary freeze, and he smiled, blinking over at the man,

“Will I be able to stay with you?”

The man caressed his side, pausing at his bare hip, thumbing over a mark there, a scar, almost, or the illusion of one.

“Of course Credence. I would like that very much. Would you?”

“Yes.”

The man smiled, and leaned in to nose at his neck, before his heated lips made contact with the skin,

“I’m glad to hear it.”

 

* * *

**END**

 


End file.
